Phoenix
by Ananke
Summary: Of exotic birds, bruised yet unbroken bows, and arrows of destiny.


*  
Disclaimer: ST:TNG and all related characters owned by Paramount. No copyright  
infringement is intended.  
Summary: Of exotic birds, bruised yet unbroken bows, and arrows of destiny.  
  
*  
"We are the music makers, and we are the dreamers of dreams…" Arthur  
O'Shaughnessy  
*  
  
"And you cross this relay with that relay, and twist that cord…and then if  
it won't work, shoot the bastard."  
  
Brows lifting slightly, Deanna Troi stared at the departing back of one  
Zephrame Cochrane, fingers drumming the console before her. "But then we won't  
be able to communicate during the launch!" She called after him, sighing as he  
shrugged and moved on, back towards the Phoenix.  
  
"Will, I'll kill you for this." She muttered softly, reflecting back on the  
order that had put her here, doing…what? Operations, command, communications?  
All of them? There was no method at all to Cochrane's madness. "It must be  
punishment." She decided rather loudly, ears still ringing, even after nearly a  
full night and a hypospray. "For the tequila. I would much rather just get a  
formal reprimand. I've been a good girl; I can bear another few of those."  
  
Faint, very familiar laughter came through the headset. "That's what they all  
say, until gamma shift duty."  
  
"Perhaps." Opting for lofty condescension, the counselor turned back to her  
buttons and switches.  
  
"C'mon, Imzadi." Will Riker's tones held definitive charm, even through the  
primitive communications system. "You'll practically be launching the Phoenix  
yourself. We do what you say, when you say."  
  
"Only after you say what to say and when to say it." She pointed out, faint  
smiling edging nonetheless.  
  
"Oh, boy." Cochrane's complaining tones broke in. "Do you need a better  
distraction, Dina, my dear?"  
  
"Deanna. And no, I think the Commander…"  
  
"Dina." The voice faded briefly, and then returned, scuffling noises filling  
the background. "You know, I've got one. Just wait a minute or two, you'll have  
all the distraction a sober mind can handle." His voice rose again, clearly  
directed somewhere within the shuttle. "Archie, get outta here, you scamp. Go  
find Dina, that beautiful half-alien I told you 'bout."  
  
"You didn't!" Geordi's voice broke in indignantly. "What did we tell you about  
keeping all this quiet?"  
  
"He was probably drunk." Riker muttered, and she could just imagine the head  
shake that accompanied the remark.  
  
"Gentlemen, the damage is done, and the com is still open." The beautiful  
half-alien said patiently, propping her chin on a lightly balled fist.  
"Zephrame, just who is Archie?"  
  
"Oh." The signal wavered, distracted tones breaking through after a long  
moment. "Just some grubby urchin who lives 'round here, fancies himself the  
next great Hawkings or the like. You can listen to him for a while,  
sweetheart."  
  
"Just hold onto your badge and listen to us as well, Counselor." La Forge  
added.   
  
"Of course, boys." Kicking her feet up on top of the table, Troi glanced  
towards the doorway, straightening swiftly as a small…grubby indeed…figure  
hurtled in. Somehow, he skidded to a halt mere inches from her recently planted  
toes. Smiling, she held out a hand. "You must be Archie."  
  
"Hello." The word ended with a faint wheeze, the child's eyes dilated. "You're  
her."  
  
"Most of my friends call me Deanna."   
  
"The alien." He continued as if she hadn't spoken, fingers clawing excitedly  
at his frayed jacket. "It must be 'mazing to be an alien, even part alien."  
  
"Not so very different from being human or part human, I would think." She  
took a wiry arm in hand, urging him to take a cup of water from the nearby  
supply and seating him firmly on the floor. "Archie, you don't really believe  
in aliens, do you? Hasn't Doctor Cochrane…exaggerated…things before to  
you?"  
  
"You're not even a little alien?" Disappointment was rife in the boy's  
cock-eyed stance and low voice.   
  
"Well…" Resolve somewhat weakened by the threatening devastation on his  
face, she sighed. "If an alien was on Earth right now, he or she or it most  
certainly wouldn't want to advertise the fact unless they were a  
troublemaker…"  
  
"I see. Sure I see." The sandy-haired child stood and reached dirty fingers up  
to pat across her face, staring steadily into her eyes, his own glowing and  
bright. "It's a secret, then."  
  
"Counselor." Riker's voice warned unexpectedly, and she jumped slightly,  
fingers clamping down on her communicator badge.  
  
"Will, what am I supposed to say?" She began in exasperation, gently moving  
the small fingers away and laughing briefly. "He is a budding Hawkings, you  
know…"  
  
"Aw, leave her alone, for crying out loud, Archie." Cochrane's tones overrode  
them both. "I bet you're pawing her like that kitten I found you last  
Christmas. If the kitten didn't like it, Dina won't either. She's not your  
science experiment."  
  
The boy leapt back guiltily, embarrassment slowly crawling up his cheeks.  
"Sorry, ma'am."  
  
"It's perfectly all right." Standing, she stretched slightly, carefully  
watching her guest out of the corner of one eye. His eyes were edging towards  
the data flashing across the terminal screen, and she could practically hear  
the calculations running through his young mind. The feelings of curiosity and  
excitement he radiated were impossible to miss. Hawkings indeed. Shaking her  
head, she caught his shoulder with a hand, speaking lightly into the headset.  
"Commander, I think Archie and I may go on a walk. Lock the files?"  
  
"Fine." Riker responded, huffing. "Enjoy your relaxation, Counselor."  
  
"I wish I could put in a hand with the Phoenix." She sympathized, though it  
wasn't entirely true. The mind of Archie seemed far more interesting an  
exploration at the moment.  
  
"Take a hike."   
  
Smiling, she cut off the signal and locked down the computer, taking the boy's  
hand. They made way out of the cramped and disorganized operations center  
quickly, Archie practically tugging her towards the less occupied sector of the  
camp.  
  
After a few moments of silent walking, her mind began to drift from the warm,  
slightly sticky fingers meshed with her own, instead focusing on the  
surroundings.   
  
It's a primitive culture…  
  
Pausing, she let the heat from a nearby bonfire soak into chilled skin,  
marveling at the comfort it brought.   
  
Archie tugged impatiently at her arm. "Don't you have heat where you live?"  
  
"Yes, but packaged." She murmured absently, sparing a wistful glance back.  
"It's all packaged."  
  
"You sure must get paid a lot, then." The flames lit up his eyes. "Nobody  
around here can afford much tech. The Doc is probably the richest man I've ever  
known."  
  
"We don't work to benefit ourselves." Realizing how odd the concept must seem  
to a child of the era, she drew him to a halt. "And while some of us do have  
money, it's considered an unnecessary vanity."   
  
"Around here there is no money to get, and if there ever is nobody is  
ashamed." Archie said simply. "Everybody works to survive."  
  
And so they did as well, in certain fashions. Mind flickering back to the war  
and all it's many and myriad costs, she shook her head, deliberately drawing  
them to a halt meters away from the crowds, and dropping all pretenses. He was  
far too intelligent for them. "Do you work to survive on your own?"  
  
"I have my parents." He looked belligerent for a moment. "They love me. It's  
just hard. Mama helps Doc Cochrane, and Dad…travels. He tries to find better  
ways for us."  
  
"I'm certain that they're wonderful people." Soothing his anger, she smiled  
down. "Perhaps I could speak to them."  
  
"They're busy."  
  
"Archie." Inserting a proper tone of command and concern into her words, Troi  
knelt, forcing his gaze. "Tell me the truth. Does Doctor Cochrane realize that  
you have no one?"  
  
"My mothers only been missing since the last attack." His voice quivered  
faintly, and then strengthened. "And Dad sometimes stays gone for weeks on end.  
It's only been a couple of months. Not very much longer than the usual. I can  
take care of myself for now."  
  
"And if they don't return to you?" Voice gentle, she caught his chin in her  
palm. "The least you can do is inform the Doctor, Archie. He would gladly care  
for you."  
  
"He's so busy, and Lily has so much to think of…" The boy sighed, eyes  
reflecting tired resignation. Suddenly, he grabbed for her hands, voice rising.  
"I can go with you."  
  
"No, Archie…"  
  
"I already know everything. I know what you are, I know 'bout the ship, and  
contact, and what can I hurt there that I won't hurt here? I trust you, Deanna;  
I like you, please…"  
  
"You don't know everything." Turning, she closed her eyes. "You belong here.  
You can do everything here that you couldn't there. Do you understand how  
special a child you are, Archie?"  
  
"I just want to get away from here."  
  
"And when I was a little girl I just wanted to stay home." Rubbing his head,  
the counselor stared thoughtfully up into the darkened sky. "I was frightened  
to leave it. My father died among the stars. I didn't want the same to ever  
happen to me. And so I took the safe route…I thought myself so wise, on the  
path to terrestrial happiness and safety."  
  
"What happened?" The boy stared up at her, eyes full of quizzical curiosity.  
  
"I met someone." Laughing softly, briefly, she grabbed for his hand, picking  
up their path briskly. "And he taught me not to be afraid of what I was, and  
what I could be. I loved him, and he left me. But I couldn't forget all that he  
had given me…and when the time came, I wasn't afraid to fulfill my destiny.   
I never could have been happy doing anything else."  
  
"But it's so bad down here."  
  
"It gets better, Archie." Reflecting upon her years among the stars, with  
Enterprise and her crew, Troi smiled. "It only gets better." Kneeling, she drew  
him close, briefly and poignantly remembering a child of too many years passed.  
Only a ghost, part of the speckled loom of her life. "Perhaps we should  
reintroduce ourselves." She held out a hand. "Commander Deanna Troi."  
  
"Archie. Just John Archer."  
  
"Just John." She brushed a tear from his cheek. "I can assure you that you are  
anything but."  
  
Suddenly, loudly, her communicator badge trilled, startling them  
apart. Backing away gently, she tapped it, studying her companion. "Troi here."  
  
"Time to rock and roll, Dina dear." Cochrane's exuberant, albeit  
slurred tones rang through before Riker's chuckle overtook control.   
  
"Ready to greet the future, Imzadi?"  
  
"Any time, Imzadi." She shared a small smile with Archie,  
grasping his hand as they turned to head back. "Any time."  
  
FIN 


End file.
